Sinister This Way Comes
by xianflux
Summary: Sequel to Le Diable Blanc. Sinister Heavy, obviously.
1. Prologue

**Notes**: This is the Sequel to Le Diable Blanc. So if you haven't read that, you probably should. Brief babble: Marvel owns these characters not I. One suitable difference between here and Le Diable Blanc.. well. You'll figure it out.

* * *

Light sparkled and glimmered through the tunnels. Mirrors had been set up just so. Candles were arrayed the way they had not been in two years, and each one flickered lightly in the dank air. Shadows were banished from the tunnels today, darkness itself was. What was still left of the Alley was lit to afternoon like brilliance, and a man with reddish-brown hair kneeled amidst the plaques that had been laid in memory of the fallen, and mold and lichen covered everything but the plaques almost like grass outside.

He was a tall man, standing approximately at 6'3". She knew most would account him ruggedly handsome, if not downright sinfully beautiful. Today faint stubble crossed his chin, and that beaten brown duster of his clung about his body. Most over looked how broad his shoulders were, in comparison to how tall he was. She knew that from a distance almost slender seeming body was corded with powerful muscles.

He murmured over each plaque he passed. What he said, she didn't try to eavesdrop on. She had done the same, while he had watched. It was his turn now.

She didn't count, or keep track. In truth, she didn't even keep her eyes on Remy while he went about his business. Instead her mind was going inward. Too many memorials, too many memories that they had had to visit. He'd been with her almost a year, and over the last year they had visited Belladonna's grave in the quiet of the night, each leaving flowers for Remy's first love. Then there had been the service for Jean Grey, after the incident up North. Remy was still beating himself up over that, she knew. Yet he'd done what he had to do, taking charge of all the students in the escape tunnels.

What, precisely, the thief thought he could have done if he'd been with them at the Damn, Storm wasn't sure. Yet in true Remy LeBeau fashion, he took on guilt for being unable to protect them all, and not all the attackers that night on the mansion had fallen to Logan's claws. It was eerie, to realize that the many who whispered he loved her each night had been capable of that kind of extremely lethal response once he realized those soldiers were a threat to the children.

In truth, she had initially thought he'd been fighting his own demons, but he hadn't damaged the mansion hardly at all, and were he seeing the Marauders in the place of the soldiers, surely he would have? Ororo still wasn't certain, one way or the other.

"Y'got dat far away look again, mon amour." His voice was husky, and his sunglasses were on. No doubt to hide the fact his eyes were watery. Funny, that she the Goddess did not try to hide such a fact, while the thief hid his tears behind thin layers of plastic.

He'd came up on her quietly while she had been in thought, and Ororo simply extended her hand, and the two of them began to walk the long corridors that would take them from the Tunnels. The Morlocks had been remembered, and for the day at least, Light would reign in the tunnels that once was their home.

"Are you certain you still want to visit Jean's grave, before we get back tonight Remy?" She frowned. He dwelled, always in thoughts. Even she didn't always know what was going on in that head of his, and she could read more emotion from each twitch and line in his face then anyone in the mansion but Logan could ever hope to pick up from Gambit. Tension.

"Oui. Got respects to pay, Stormy. Den we promised dat we would let Jubilee try her new Home Ec skills out on us. De Lord help us, she try an make us a french meal." He offered a chuckle and a grin to her, and she just squeezed his hands as they departed the tunnels.

* * *

As the pair exited the tunnels, candles gutted out, and a faint wind seemed to hang over the Morlock Tunnels. As candles faded, all of that near day light strength light was lost, and darkness reigned once more. Save for a pair of red eyes looking from the center of the darness.

"The finest training, training from my own hand, and this is the best, the most, you seek from life Remy LeBeau? Teaching young coddled children? Dallying with a mutant who pretends to be a Goddess? At least Summers has brain damage to blame his ill decisions upon, what excuses do you have Gambit?"

"No, this will not do at all. I have given you free reign for too long. You begin to think you control your life once again, it is time you remember you play your games with the hand that Sinister dealt you."

In time, the chill and the eyes faded, and rats scurried through the tunnels once again. No longer scared off by the malign presence, or the two noisy humans who'd come before it.

* * *

_Christ. How'd I end up getting stuck in this position?_

Logan desperately wanted to know the answer to that. Because he didn't really have an answer, as to why he was dragging Scott Summers out of the bath room and throwing him onto his bed. Then trudging back to the bathroom to wash his hands off, and make sure the rest of the vomit was cleaned up. Not because he was doing Scott a favor, but because the scent was assaulting his nose.

Even more the stench of alcohol on Slimm's breath was.

Once he'd cleaned the bathroom the shorter X-man stalked back to the bedroom, and dropped into a chair that creaked with his weight, to peer at the man with glasses. Who was currently clutching his pillow._Aw shit. Not this again. I'm gonna hurl. Damn you, Cyke. _

He couldn't bring the hatred or disdain to bear he wanted to though. Months ago, he remembered his own grief once more. The pain of losing a loved one, the loss of Mariko. Now Scott was going through a loss of his own, of Jean. He wasn't sure he really understood that rapport thingy the Professor said they'd had, but it'd screwed Scott up bad when Jean died. Real bad.

"Thanks Logan."

That caught him by surprise, and he eyed the other man suspiciously. "Fer what bub?"

"For pulling me out of Harry's, for dumping coffee down me, for keeping me from making a scene in front of the kids.. For the third time."

Scott's smell riled him. The man smelled half dead. Not physically, his emotional scent. He was like wood now, and the only real strong scents that came off him were despair, longing, misery, sorrow. It wasn't like it was Scott that died though. Except Chuck said that in a way, part of Scott died when Jean did. However the hell that worked. Damn telepaths.

"Yeah, well, don't to getting touchy feely on me Summers. Ain't nothing I wouldn't do fer none of the others neither. Ya gotta cut this shit out though, cuz next time I ain't gonna bail yer ass out from making a dipshit of yerself in front of the kids. Ya get me?"

Scott just groaned, and clutched the bed. _Hah. Beds spinning, I bet. Serves ya right, drinking whiskey straight like ya had a healing factor. _

"I.. got you, Logan." Scott answered him, after a significant delay. Apparently managing to make the bed stop spinning, since he wasn't clutching it anymore, and instead was clutching a pillow to his chest. Logan knew it was Jean's, even if her scent was starting to grow fainter on it.

"Yeah, well. You got people who look up to ya Scooter. Ya think Jubilee or Kitty know how to deal with the losses either? Ya got a right to grieve, but ya hurting others in yer selfishenss. Ya gotta get back up. It hurts, I lost .. my wife. First I wanted ta kill everyone who cost me her. Then I just wanted to die myself. Fer what? I don't know, but the pain eats ya. But ya see, I never learned the valuable lesson until Chuck taught it to me, even if people told me it at the time."

"You.. were married?" Scott sounded disbelieving.

"Yea." A sigh from Logan. "Yeah kid, I was. Back years ago, before the Project. I was in Japan, and fell in fer.. aw hell, this don't do you no good to hear. The important parts this, Summers. I coulda done any of those things, but ya know what the thing her friends an Chuck told me that helped was? She wouldn'ta wanted me too. She'd a wanted me to pick back on up, move on, be happy. So fer her, that's what I'm doing. I'm honoring her memory by staying with the X-men, teachin the punks here, cuz she'd a liked the idea I think."

_Oh. Punk ass. I open up to you, and ya pass out while I'm talking? Dick._

* * *

"So like, now what happens?" The blonde who had a tendancy to over-use the word 'like' asked the group sitting around a table in the rec room, playing poker. Her name was Tabitha Smith. Gambit's influence and love of cards had spread a bit like wild fire amongst some of the more impressionable young men. Such as the young hayseed Kentuckian who was dealing, named Sam Guthrie.

"Well, from the way ah see it, classes start up again next week. We got a new German teacher, Mr Summers teaches maths, Miss Munroe teaches social studies, history and the like, the Professor handles English and literature, Mr LeBeau's and Logan are trading off on Phys Ed, Shop, and Gambit's handling French. That just leaves.."

"We know what it leaves, Sam." Kitty almost hissed at him. It left Dr Grey's subjects, sciences, health, and a hole as the default councilor of the school. Everyone had their own favorites to go to, from the Professor to Dr. Grey, some even went to Logan to talk, but most had went to Dr. Grey. She had a candy jar, after all, and was usually the most motherly of all of the faculty. The one who'd been most willing to empathize with them.

Kitty's words brought a silence on the table that even Rogue looked uncomfortable with, and for once Bobby wasn't playing any tricks. He just looked morosely at his cards.

"Maybe we'll like, get a new teacher?" Tabby broke the silence, her words, as well as with bubble gum. The crack of her gum like a spell had been dispelled, and a few laughs and barbs were exchanged amongst the kids.

* * *

"T'anks again for savin us, Prof." Remy chuckled as he slipped onto the couch in Xavier's study with Ororo besides him.

'Ro grimaced, and patted her stomach. "Jubilees efforts at French cuisine did not turn out as well as could be hoped." Storm opined, and Remy very nearly went into laughter at the studious and serious look on her face, as she passed judgement on Jubilee's cooking.

"No thanks are necessary, however I did move our meeting up some when I sensed both of yours discomfort." A faint smile crossed Xavier's face. Remy still wasn't sure if he trusted the old man, but he seemed to be on the up and up. Yet there was always the feeling that he was just waiting for the other hand to reveal itself. Maybe it was a lifetime of paranoia and being a thief, of life turning that way on him every time he was happy. In this instance, he was fairly sure he was wrong though, and it was just habit.

"I wanted the two of you to read over this file. I have been in contact with two of the members of the Mutant Underground. Both from London. They have expressed some level of willingness to help us deal with two issues we've been looking to deal with." Charles handed two files across to them, each taking one, leafing through, then sharing with the other.

"Purple hair? Cheesey. Oh merde..." Gambit knew his voice was trailing off in surprise, as he eyed the picture staring at him from one of the files. "Ya can't be serious. Dis man be one of ya underground operatives dat I hear bout?" He was giving Xavier an incredulous look he knew, and Storm was smirking at him.

"You've had the occasion to meet him before then, Remy?"

"Oiu. Twice. Once in London on a job dere, den again in de Czeck Republic. He Government type, but den, all we did was drink t'gether some an bitch bout somet'ings." Gambit admitted with a frown, while Storm laughed and Charles had that faint half smile.

"Was is the operative word, with both of them. Your 'friend' has recently left Government employ, and is up for a change of lifestyle. He was also able to provide a measure of details that made the next mission – a strike at one of Sinister's labs, a possibility."

Gambit frowned. The man hadn't struck him as -that- good when he'd met him.

"An de femme?"

"Her name is Elizabeth Braddock, Remy. Not 'femme'." Storm was frowning at him. Uhoh. Jealous streak. Then again, could he blame her? From the picture, the girl looked like she wandered around in a bathing suit and called it a costume.

"Elizabeth taught here previously, some years ago. Before her brother became Captain Britian, and she returned home. Since then, she's undergone some rather personal problems, and her Father and I both agreed she could help adjust better here, where there were less ties to her past then at her ancestral home."

"So ya telling me dis asian girl be British? How dat work?"

"It's a rather convoluted process, Remy, but I'm sure Elizabeth might be willing to explain it to you." Storm was smiling with those words. _Note to self, don't ask her dat question. Not if Stormy smiling dat much._

"So den.. we just go pick dem up, or whatcha want Prof?" Remy had a bad feeling about all of this.

"No. Tomorrow you, Storm, Logan, and Nightcrawler will take the Black Bird to meet them. From there, with Storm in charge, you will complete the mission regarding Sinister's lab, and if both our English friends are content they will fit amongst us, they will come join us at the school afterward. Do your best to make them feel welcome. Both would be assets to the School, and help free up our teaching load for all of us."

".. y'gonna let him teach?"

"If you read the file, Remy, Mr. Wisdom is a certified genius. Cryptography, communications, physics. Despite his rough exterior, I have been assured by those who have worked with him that he is capable to teach. Despite his demeanor."

"Pete Wisdom.. heh. Don't say I didn't tell ya." Remy warned, and realized Storm was smirking at him again. With a sigh, he grabbed her hand, squeezed then smiled brightly.

"Well, if dat's everything, den me an Stormy, we didn't finish our dinner, an I still starving." He felt Storm's pulse quicken at the look in his eyes, and Xavier shaking his head almost as if he were murmuring 'children'.

Which just made him grin even more as he led Storm out.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Next Up: Pete Wisdom, Psylocke, woo. 


	2. Enter the Nasty Boys

The air was hazy, and likely smelly, around him. He knew this, mostly because he was on his third fag in twenty minutes. The cherry red of tobacco burning brightly, a pleasant smell to him. Others didn't always share his opinion on that little matter of fact. For example, the purple haired bird sitting next to him on the bench.

"Fancy a fag then, luv?" He offered his pack of silk cuts to her, and the bint just arched her brow at him and snorted. Only a bloody noble woman could show that much disdain in such a simple fact. Point of matter though, she was a bloody noble woman. For all the fact that she was Asian – japanese, actually, he knew, she certainly acted British. As was her accent.

"Oh, I don't think so _luv_. Why, why don't you actually either tie your tie, or just undo it all the way. Or maybe I could show you something more interesting to do with it." Her tongue poking out between her lips, a near purr in her voice as he was sure she tried a sight that had reduced other men to their knees.

Pete Wisdom was not other men. He blew smoke in her face, before she even started to utter "Like strangling yourself.." Before she coughed.

"It's alright petal, ya wouldn't last a night with me anyway. Better than bloody Bond, I am. Driving, shooting, spying, shagging. Anything Bond can do, I do better." Most people thought he was bragging, when he said things like that. After all, he wasn't very tall. Five nine. A wiry slender built man. He smoked like a chimney. The short nondescript black hair had a few tinges of grey here or there. A full days stubble upon his chin. A very unimpressive man who's only real handsome feature was his icy blue eyes, who moved in slow extremely controlled ways.

No one would ever accuse Pete Wisdom of looking like someone who could move quickly if needed.

In almost every way, a total opposite to the woman who sat on the bench with him. About his height, with purple eyes and purple hair. The high facial profile of a beuatiful japanese woman, and the toned body of a martial artist. Including a rather bountiful chest. _Bird looks more like a Japanese Idol than a bloody espionage agent or sister of Captain bloody Britian._

Appearances were deceiving though. Yet he knew that better then the woman looking at him vexedly. Still annoyed by his blowing smoke in her face, no doubt. He was fairly sure no one had ever done such to her before – Elizabeth Braddock had been a model to begin with, and her second body was better then the first. _Ahh. There it is. Witch is trying to get into me head._

"Now now luv, didn't yer dear old dad ever teach yer any manners? Wot about that hero Captain Fruit of the Loom brother of yers? Innit nice to be prying in other peoples heads luv." He shook his finger back and forth at her, and the feeling of something crawling in his head receded.

"How did you know? You're not a telepath, or a psi." Now she was scowling, and sounded petulant. Yup. Spoiled princess. Correction, Spoiled Lady._Bloody Nobles_.

"Well, fer starters luv, I spent nearly a decade working fer MI-5 and then MI-6. After that, I worked fer organizations ya innit even ever heard of. Ya get that deep into shite, and ya get taught ter shield yer thoughts from wankers like yerself. Mebbe ya could break em, probably could, yer pretty powerful, but the thing is luv.. Could ya do it before I got angry?" The grin he flashed her made her stiffen. Just like he knew it would.

It wasn't a friendly grin. It was a cold grin, a cruel grin. It was the grin he offered people before he began interrogating people, or had been infamous for using while he worked for the Crown. More then a few people had broken just from his grin alone, and the look that he found so easy to evoke into his eyes. Pete Wisdom was a man who'd seen so much death, so much pain, and been the cause of most of it, that he found it easy to show that in his persona. Which had become a useful tool, because cultivating it had made it less necessary to actually follow through with the threats his eyes promised people.

"You're a right tosser, you know that Wisdom?" She scoffed once again, although she didn't seem so ready to dismiss him as just a worthless low life in a cheap dirty suit and rain coat anymore.

"Got that right, petal. Ya ask me nice like, and maybe I'll toss yer over the bed later. Ya like that, huh? You noble types, always like the kinky rough shit."

Her hand imprinted red upon his cheek. _Yep. Deserved that one._

_Yes, you did._

A growl from his throat, as he worked at keeping her out again, and lit another cigarette.

"Where are these bloody yanks anyway? Were supposed to be here flipping half hour again. Leave it to yanks to not be able to tell time."

"I do not see why you're complaining, _luv_, you aren't the one stuck with a sitting companion who smells like a living ash tray." A twitch of her lips.

"Wot, ya prefer a booze soaked ash tray petal?" She laughed in delight as he pulled out his flask, took a swig, and handed it to her.

"Your still a right bastard, Wisdom."

"That I am petal, now quit hoarding me booze, share and share alike."

* * *

"So we just leave the bird here? Sure dat de way dis works?" Gambit asked with a frown, but the others nodded. "D'accord."

Sighing, he fell in behind the other three, Logan wandering ahead sniffing at the air, while Kurt was following him in a heavy rain coat with a hood up, to hide his demonic fuzzy elfness from the world. Ororo on the other hand, just walked along side with him.

"Stormy, why we leave de jet here?" He inquired, once the other two were a bit ahead.

"Because there's no one to pilot it, Remy, and Lord Braddock ensured us that this part of the property would be safe to hide it for now. It will be there when we go back for it."

"If you say so. I still don' like leavin de means a getting home parked a ways away...Or going at one of Sinister's labs wit' two people we ain't done no training wit'. Oh well, it a challenge I guess, an Lord know dat dis cajun always love a challenge, huh?"

Storm yelped at the pinch he gave her, before he danced away to catch up to Logan. He was fairly sure there was small bolts of lightning coming after him.

* * *

".. so that's when I shot the toerag in the foot, an asked him where his god was now." Wisdom was telling Betsy with a dry tone, despite the fact it was a funny story. At least, he considered it such.

"Our pickups are here, luv." Betsy demurred, putting the cap on his flask and handing it back. To which Pete looked at it forlornly, shook it to find half of it's contents were gone, then pocketed it.

"Yer right petal. There's short and hairy now, not to sure who the hooded one is... Bullocks." He knew that tall figure coming behind them, before the pretty white haired African woman.

"LeBeau, you wanker. Wot the 'ell you doing with this brady bunch, mate?" To his lack of surprise, LeBeau wrapped an arm around Storm's shoulder, and gave him an exaggerated grin.

_Figures._

"Dunno mon ami, bout to ask you de same question?"

"Things took a turn fer the worse wot with the blokes I was working fer. Right then, you lot are here. We got a job to do, before either of us are going anywhere with you bunch of spandex and leather wearing sexual deviants."

At least Betsy was laughing at that, but then, the woman was wearing a glorified swim suit underneath her coat. He'd gotten a few peaks at it while they'd been sitting. To his surprise, Logan laughed too, while Ororo and the hooded man frowned at him. Gambit was just grinning like it was the truth.

_Shite, some things I don't bleeding want to know._

* * *

"Logan, Gambit, you will be with Wisdom. Kurt and I will go with Betsy, once we have breached the lab. You are sure this is the place, Mr. Wisdom?"

"Oh, it's the bloody place all right. Stake yer life on it." His grin was unappreciated, as usual. Ah well, you couldn't win them all. Tossing the do-hickey he'd lifted from his former employers to the wall, then tapping the combination of keys on it, the previously flat wall pulsed with energy, before a doorway appeared.

"Thirty minutes. That's how long this'll keep up. Don't over stay yer welcome beyond that, or we gotta find another exit. Ladies first." He was unsurprised that Betsy went through first, then Logan, Kurt, Storm, Gambit, and finally he himself.

_Bloody 'ell, what am I doing with the spandex crowd? This is only gonna end in flipping tears._

* * *

"Boss?"

Sinister looked up coldly from his console. "Yes, Scalphunter?"

"Security alert in the London Lab. Tesseract there just activated itself, and six mutants detected. Ah.. one of them is LeBeau, Sir."

"So the mouse comes to the hawk. Very well, let's give them a surprise, shall we?" Sinister's smile sent chills down Scalphunters spine.

"Sir?"

"Come. Watch." Sinister invited Greycrow to join him at the consoles, as five men appeared via another tesseract on the security monitors for that section of lab. Monitors that also showed the X-men already cutting into Sinister's labs with raw destruction.

Sinister had another team. That somehow Scalphunter had never known about. Interesting.

* * *

"Hate dese labs." Remy noted, as a series of his kinetic charges went off, obliterating tanks and other precious lab equipment. But his destruction, while visually impressive, wasn't that much quicker then the super heated energy knives Wisdom through with nasty accuracy, melting anything they hit – or igniting anything that was flammable. Wolverines claws.. well. They were as lethal to lab equipment as they were to anything else.

"God damn explosions are hard on the hearing, Cajun." Logan growled, from slicing a series of terminals into scrap metal.

"Sorry mon ami, dat de way de powers work. Badda bing, badda boom." A grimace, as he tossed a few more cards at more sets of tanks.

Except the resulting explosion was far, far louder then it should have been. Waves of sound knocking all three of the men onto their asses, and left Logan clutching his head at the massive sonic attack.

_What de... shit._ He tapped his comm once, to indicate to the other team they just ran into opposition, while pulling more cards from coat to get ready to throw. The main assailant looked to be a tall pink haired man dressed like a fruit, who was still screaming those painful ear wrenching sound waves at them.

"Now now now, as annoying as Ruckus's voice is, we can't be having you do that." A voice lectured him, as he felt himself wrapped up in a sticky goey purple tar. Before it enveloped his eyes, he could see Wisdom was facing off against a man who looked somewhat like an ape.

_Great. We getting spanked by Sinister's boy band rejects._

* * *

"Ororo, das vas ze signal." Kurt pointed out to her, as their commlinks flared.

Their own destruction was not quite so rampant as the other teams, with the majority of the damage coming from Storm's lightnings and winds, while Kurt and Betsy handled things more.. physically.

"Thank you, Kurt." Ororo frowned. That there had been no words following, meant they had met resistance. Even as she was about to order them to go meet up with the others though.. One of the near by potted plants, so seemingly out of place in these cold labs, seemed to stretch out, seeking to to trap her. The first few branches were met with lightning bolts, but she wasn't fast enough, and the limbs entagled her, and began wrapping around her. Trapping her. Wrapping and wrapping, until she was trapped in a constricting cacoon of dark woods.

_Oh by the Bright Lady, no!_

Storm railed, reaching for lightnings, blasting at the growing limbs, to find that they were replaced as quickly as she threw lightnings at them.

* * *

"Yer bunch of wankers think yer up to snuff, huh?" Wisdom sounded disparaging around the butt of his fag, he knew. First rule of thumb, put your opponents down and psyche them out. It wasn't looking so hot, with the cajun wrapped in some goo, and Logan ever so slowly crawling while howling towards the screaming man.

"That's right englishman, we're gonna crush ya." A snarl, and a swipe of very strong looking hands with slightly sharpened claws at them passed at him. The ape-thing actually looked surprised when Wisdom deftly side stepped. He was used to that expression. Everyone always assumed his carefully controlled placid motions meant he was slow, while in reality his reactions were battle hardened by over 14 years in service of the Crown.

"Yer sure bout that? Don't think I ever much feared getting me arse handed to me by a hair bag like yerself." Wisdom snorted, but he was sticking on the defensive. The surprise of course, came when some of the mans nasty looking fur ejected after a near miss like a quill attack. Only his rain coat saved him there, and the ape man snarled.

"Wot? Never heard of body armor ya wanker? Ya think I lived this long as an agent of the crown without a few advantages?"

"You talk a lot for someone who hasn't even attacked me back yet. Your a mutant, where's your power?" Hairbag was starting to get annoyed at the man, and when Wisdom's fingers started glowing and he jumped back, he wasn't at all expecting what actually happened. Pete deftly drew his 9mm with his other hand, and capped four rounds in Hairbag's legs.

"That's wot ya get fer being a wanker with bad breath. Shite mate, yer smell worse then I do." If only he'd known how accurate that statement was, when Hairbag cried out in pain on the ground, and from his mouth emerged a gas that left Wisdom sputtering and coughing, and feeling conciousness start to fade away.

_Damnit, Wisdom. Rookie trick got ya. Yer better then this._

Pete was aware of three things. One was one of his hot knives flung from a finger tip at Hairbag as he fell towards the floor, the other was an explosion rocking the whole room. The third thing, was the floor was cold, but that was far less important.

* * *

It was times like this, Elizabeth Braddock really wished her psi-blade could cut physical matter. Namely, that which had hold of Storm. Lacking that ability to free Ororo, she instead launched herself in an arcing summersault that would surely would have won her a medal at the olympics, as she attempted to bring her psi-blade down at the man who appeared to be the cause of Ororo's situation.

The smile on his face warned her as she hit the downward arc of her leap towards him, as his staff spun in his hands, and then **extended** impossibly to strike her in the stomach mid-air, sending her sailing across the room. She barely managed to readjust her movements over the pain in her stomach, her feet hitting the wall, legs giving, and then pushing, sending her back across some of the distance, to land with a considering look.

"A nice trick, but of limited use now that I know it." She noted cockily, even if she was at a temporary loss as to how to overcome the stand off capability he was showing, and his mind was closed off to her with some kind of psi-screen. Technological no doubt.

"Not at all girl. Ya see, I just got to hold ya there while my plants kill your friend, and Slab here kills ya. Pity your demon friend ran off."

Betsy frowned, when she saw 'Slab'. A brute of a man, whos mind she couldn't touch either. Cursed technology. Today wasn't her day. _Now Kurt_.

She instructed, while leaping over a computer terminal, and going around Slab towards Ramrod. True to her sending, Kurt appeared out of the shadows as she moved, launching onto Slab's back and trying to use his own momentum against him to carry him into a wall.

From the crash she heard, it sounded like it was working, as Kurt bamfed about, leading the brute on a merry little chase. Unfortunately, her own fight wasn't going so good. Each time, that damned staff found a way to block or harry her, extending and moving impossibly. Were it just a staff, she could have easily gotten close enough. Even jamming her psi-blade into the staff didn't seem to have any effect but to make Ramrod laugh.

She earned herself another knock across the room before she could even get close to try plan B, which was attempting to free Ororo. Blinking back the pain of impact with a wall, she was in time to see Kurt get sent sailing from a back hand that finally caught him, yet he bamfed mid swing, to appear above her.

_Ahh Betsy? _

_I know Kurt, we need to change opponents. You take Ramrod._

With that, she launched into the fray once more. This time she felt significantly more confident in her fight, as she dodged wild swing after wild swing, despite the pain flaring in her ribs, stomach, and back. All it took was dodging two swings, and one 'upper cut' from her to finish Slab off, her Psi-knife jamming right into his chin, and K.O.ing him instantly.

Turning, she saw Kurt's fight was going better as well, although he hadn't ended it nearly so quickly. He was teleporting between each swing of that staff, and scoring hits on Ramrod each time. Yet Betsy frowned noting they were only minor hits. They were taking too long, and Ororo was panicing.

_Kurt, hurr.. oh no._

* * *

"So, dey call ya Gorgeous Goerge, eh?" His mouth was about the only part of him that wasn't covered in the goo.

"Yup. Ya can see why, huh? So, you going to give up now Gambit? You can't get out of this."

"Non. Poppa, he always tell me dat I could do de impossible. Like so." He couldn't actually feel George's surprise, something was blocking his empathy. However he felt it because the man was squirming as if trying to see what he was talking about. All it really took was one glance at Gambit's eyes though, to know the truth.

He'd turned his powers on. Oh sure he couldn't charge organic objects, like George was. He wasn't crazy enough to charge his clothes, not this time. Instead he charged what he'd never really shown people he could charge, as hundreds of small explosions went off along George's body that was trapping him.

Needless to say, it was messy as purple goo exploded away from him, and none too good for his coat either. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he was launching up to catch a hold of the ceiling, and swing to get some distance, sending five cards sailing back at George.

"Y'forget mon ami.. de air, she ain't organic. Bitch to charge, cept when someone foolish enough t'give me pockets of it.." Shit talking in combat was an art form, after all. Especially when bragging about something one wasn't certain they could even do until they'd done it.

_Two down.. now for de songbird. Damn, Pete really messed dat one up._

Even as Remy spun to throw a set of throwing spikes at Ruckus, he found he'd been a bit over-anxious. In two ways. The first, George clearly wasn't down, judging by the purple goo hand that grasped his ankle, and hurled him towards a wall.

The second was Logan was up again, and looking mighty pissed off. Comparatively, Ruckus wasn't looking so cocky as a few hundred pounds of feral Canadian leaped at him with claws bared.

"Y'know, dis gonna be a pretty boring fight. You throw me round, I blow you up, how bout we jus' say dat I win?"

"Why would we ever do that? I think I'll just suffocate you instead."

"Well dere i.." _s always dat choice. Course, putting ya nasty hand over my mouth just gonna piss me off. Lesse.. Heh. T'ank you, Jubilee._

His hands found something of use in his coat. The bag of ball bearings he and Jubes had been planning to use to fix up the playground for the littler kids. See how the gooey bastard liked having those go off inside of him.

_Oh dis gonna be good. 29.. 28.._ Counting to himself how much time he had of consciousness left while he discreetly slipped bearings from his pocket into George, who seemed to be oblivious.

Logan looked like he was kicking Ruckus's ass, from what he could tell through the purple goo. _Damn. Petit holmes gonna make me look bad._

When his bearings went off, and George splattered thoroughly across the room, Gambit almost smirked. Until he heard a much louder boom from the other direction.

* * *

"Well. Well. Well. Who would have thought she had it in her? I suppose the loss of that lab might have been worth just finding it out." Sinister murmured, watching power outputs of each of the mutants who were fighting in his London lab. Peaking highest at the moment, was the one for Storm.

"Sir?"

"They were just clones, they can be replaced. The Nasty Boys clearly need more training if they were taken apart by this meager band, anyway." Sinister's smile was cruel as always.

* * *

_Bright Lady, I can't breath! AIR!_

The winds came first. Ripping and pushing at plants, and when the winds couldn't do it, lightnings joined them. Lightning crackling from her eyes, her hands, circling and blasting from her body. With the force of a tornado, the cacoon that had entrapped her was ripped to shreds, lightning crashing outward from her as she burst into freedom.

To find a surprised looking Betsy staring open mouthed at her on one side. A large man was comatose amongst a pile of rubble in that way. Turning her heard seeking her tormenter, she found a very unpleasant sight to her eyes. Kurt was crumpled against a wall, that staff placed against Kurt's neck. Yet Ramrod's eyes were on her, in sheer surprise.

That surprise remained there, even as winds and lightning impacted him, throwing him down corridor after corridor.

"Come." She ordered, moving to help pick Kurt up with Betsy's aid, as they made their way back towards the others. Behind them, a vortex of weather was brewing in that room. An indoor tornado, already ripping the lab apart. Never before had she created such a thing in similar confines away from open air, and she wasn't sure she could have stopped it if she wanted too.

But she didn't, so it was a moot point.

* * *

When he awoke, it was laying on one of the medical beds of the Black Bird.

"Bloody hell." Patting his coat, he found his cigarettes, pulled one out, hot knifed the end, and inhaled refreshing nicotine.

"Quite so, luv. Quite so." Betsy's tone was just as disgruntled as his, and he saw why when looking over. Her costume was now adorned with bandages across her ribs, and Nightcrawler was in another bed, but he looked to be out of it still.

"So we win or wot?" Since they weren't in that lab still, he guessed so.

"Oh, I think we won Wisdom. Or rather, Storm did. While we picked at the opposition, once she broke free she finished off two of the attackers – and wiped out the rest of the lab. She was in quite the tiff, who'd have thought she had it in her?"

Wisdom just grimaced, and sucked on his fag. "Eh. Wot can ya do I guess? So we're on the Brady Bunch's jet?"

"Astute, Pete, very astute." Betsy noted dryly, to which he flicked her off.

"So yer going with 'em?" He still wasn't sure if he was. It was in the States, after all, but all that was left here in the UK was spending each day wondering if one of the few remaining Black Air failsafes would find him and off him when he wasn't looking. Pisser of a way to live life, or to die. The respectable agencies weren't willing to touch him anymore, after his involvement with Black Air. Cleared him of wrong doing, they did, for his part in dismantling the agency, but oh no. No one wanted to touch Pete Wisdom now.

They just sealed his record tighter then a virgin, gave him some fancy medal, and booted him.

"Of course. I planned to from the beginning. You're the one who wasn't sure if you were going to go with."

"Astute, petal. Ya think these bunch of tossers are gonna be able to handle having two Brits around?"

Betsy arched an eyebrow at him and laughed. "Oh please, Wisdom. You barely qualify as human, don't make me think of you as a country man. You're hardly the God, Queen, and Country type anyway, with that mouth of yours."

Wisdom just smirked. She obviously hadn't peeked into his thoughts too much while he'd been out. He'd have thought a telepath would know the old saying. Don't judge a book by it's cover.

"Guess I better go then, someone has gotta keep yer from having delusions of grandeur petal."

"So ya both coming, eh? Good. I let Stormy know."

"Sod off LeBeau, you dirty french bastard." Wisdom growled, as Gambit walked off laughing.

"Really Pete, do you get along with anyone?"

"Get along with people, petal? Built me career on making people want to kill me." Wisdom laughed. "Get along with people.. Heh.."

_Screw you, Bird. All me mates are six feet under. That's wot happens when I get along with someone._

"Ororo says they'll bring our things from the Manor." Betsy smiled happily, relieved at someone else acting as her porter no doubt. Wisdom just hoped that filthy cajun just didn't steal any of his things while he helped move it.

* * *

"The Black Bird is about to land, Professor. Should we go meet them?" Scott Summers was looking a little better then he had the last few days. Not having the others to fall back on, having to be the Responsible Figure had asserted his control. Charles was just worried now that the others were back, he would begin to decline again.

Somehow, someway, there had to be a way to help Scott. Yet there was the lurking suspicion in his stomach that the only thing that would help his adopted son was Jean's return. He'd felt.. flickers.. of something, maybe Jean, out there. Yet Scott hadn't seemed to feel anything. Or perhaps he was, and that was why he was taking things so hard?

"Yes, of course Scott. They have both of the new recruits with them, and it would be best to give them a warm welcome. Kurt is also injured, Jubilee and Kitty are already preparing the infirmary for him."

_Hope is Eternal, Scott. You have to believe that._

Charles smiled, at the surprised look on Scott's face at the telepathic sending, as he wheeled past the man.

To his surprise, he heard Scott quoting lightly behind him.

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always To be Blest. Alexander Pope."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Next up, Wisdom and Betsy settle into ze mansion. Amongst other things. Thoughts on Pete? Good addition, bad addition? Is a trio of bad boys (Gambit, Logan, Wisdom) too much? Is Jean dead? How dead? 


	3. Wisdom comes to Xavier's

"So that's wot these tossers call a school? Innit bad. Kinda like one of them posh boarding schools, eh Bets?" Pete talked around the ever present fag hanging between his lips. Once they'd landed, they'd been given freedom to wander around for a while before any immediate meetings. Which he'd been all too glad to slip away from others for a time.

He hadn't counted on Braddock following him. She was watching him the way a cat watched a bird, and he wasn't too sure what to make of that just yet. Instead he grunted at finding a bench to sit on out past the pool amongst the trimmed shrubs, that offered a nice view of the mansion.

"Wot?" She had that smug aristocratic look on her face, and he didn't like it.

"Oh, just you Wisdom. You're quite amusing, you know. Have you even reconciled yourself to the fact you agreed to teach _American mutant teenagers_? You're still acting like you came across the pond for a pint with an unpleasant relative, instead of for a new job luv." Those bloody purple eyes watched him far too knowingly. What had she seen or glimpsed in his head while he'd been out, or what had LeBeau told her?

"Teaching innit that bad. Used give lessons fer new hires, an such like. Kids just mean being more of a hard ass, so they don't get out of line." Plus it was a long way from the United Kingdom, which right now was something he definitely needed. Amongst this bunch of pacifist creeps he probably wouldn't have to kill anyone either, and that was a decided benefit. "Dunno wot ya find so funny about that, petal."

Betsy coughed at the bit of smoke he'd blown her way, and gave him an annoyed look, that vanished quickly enough. "Do you always have such _charm_ with women, Pete, or is it just an effort you make with me?" One elegant eyebrow arched at him.

To which he just laughed.

"Usually lot easier ter get yer type off me back. A bit of smoke, some overly personal petals and luvs dropped in, a few crude jokes.."

"Doesn't work on a telepath, Wisdom luv." She damn near purred at him like she had back when they first met, licked her lips, then stood up and walked away, with a shake in her hips. And as much as Pete Wisdom was a man who was by and large immune to such things? He still found himself swallowing.

"Wot the 'ell have I gotten myself into?" He asked the open air, not expecting an answer.

"Was bout t'ask dat question of ya myself mon ami. Glad to see ya don't know either. Belle femme, she got a nice walk." A faint rustle as the cajun dropped down onto the bench with him. He'd never even heard him approach, beyond those last few feet when he probably wasn't trying to hide it. He couldn't afford to go and get complacent, even in a place that might be safe, even if only temporarily.

"Sod off LeBeau. It ain't like wot yer thinking. Innit here for the girls. Just avoiding some shite back home fer a while, good place to be in the mean time as much as any other."

His annoyance rose as Gambit laughed.

"Ya know what I like bout ya mon ami? Ya name. Wisdom. Biggest oxymoron dat I ran across for quite a while. Enjoy de view. 'Ro said dat when ya come in, dere be a small deal t'introduce ya to de rest of de faculty an de students."

"Wot, she's talking business after a mission an those looks you two were sharin? You must be slipping, LeBeau."

He found himself frowning as he stalked off, because Gambit's answer had just been a cocky grin and a laugh. Maybe Xavier's wasn't a better place to be then London after all. It was full of raving mad Americans, and at least one raving mad French-American! Damned French..

* * *

When Gambit had told him that Storm wanted him to stop in on a 'small introduction' he'd assumed it'd just be the faculty, and maybe it'd take him ten twenty minutes and he'd be able to go crash out in his sleep. He had been appallingly wrong.

When he stepped into the faculty study he was confronted with two facts. One, it was a good deal bigger than he had expected a glorified teachers lounge to be. The second fact was there were either quite a few young teachers, or there was more than just the faculty present. Judging from the way Ororo wouldn't quite meet his eyes initially, Wisdom guessed that it was indeed more of a social meet-and-greet then a presence-required type of meeting. Damn cajun.

Before he could track Remy down and cuss him out though, he caught a cough from behind him and stepped out of the door way, while Logan stepped in and nodded to him. "Wisdom."

"Logan." A nod of his head in return. There was just a shade of respect in the tone of each of them, and quite a bit more distaste. Yet for a moment, they shared a similarity as they stood near the door, eying all of the gathered people distrustfully.

"I need a beer." The canadian growled, and started to walk towards the refreshment. Wisdom, taking this to mean there was alcohol, had a bit more of a bounce in his step as he set himself to follow after the Wolverine. Surely there was some kind of booze, if this was a teachers function.. Yet a number of them looked a bit too young to be there if there was booze, this was Puritan America after all. No hopping down to the pub when you were sixteen in America. Ripe old age of 21 for drinking here across the pond.

"Must be 'ell." Pete said in a conciliatory voice to one of the younger women, although he considered her jacket must be too. All that yellow. She blinked at him in confusion.

"What must be?"

"Being American, luv. Innit able ter drink till yer 21, cultures afraid of all the shite in life that's worth doing. Sex, nudity, booze, daft bunch yer are, but yer relatives all risked crossin an ocean in boats so guess that's that. Yer have me condolences." A nod of his head, as he saw Logan did have beer, and stalked away from Jubilee with a few quick steps.

She was left sputtering, while the two girls standing right behind her were having a hard time deciding between laughing and glaring at Wisdom, unsure if he was trying to be insulting, or if he'd just done it to prove he could leave Jubilee standing there unsure what to say. The human claptrap temporarily without words.

His respite was not meant to last long, however, because once he had a beer he found another man had wandered over. This one was wearing glasses. Indoors. He didn't need to be told twice who it was though.

"Scott Summers." He identified himself, offering a hand. Pete took it, and offered his own name.

"So wot's the glorious idea 'ere, ya know? Looks like one of those 'orrible meet and greets they have on TV, that always ends up bursting wot with a fight or drama of some sort. Mebbe someone getting drunk and dancing on the tables. Ya gonna give us a show after a few beers, Scott?" Wisdom grinned a wicked grin, especially the way the question seemed to take Scott offguard. He appeared to be used to disrespect from Logan and Gambit, but he hadn't appeared ready to hear it from a man dressed in a fairly nice suit – even if that suit was somewhat rumpled, and he smelled like an ashtray.

"Anyway, there's yer Professor, so if you'll excuse me." Stepping away from Scott while he was still trying to figure out if Logan had blabbed about his drinking habits, Wisdom seemed unaware that he'd begun to gather a bit of attention on himself from about the room.

"Professor Xavier, nice ter meet ya in person fer once instead of as a voice in me ruddy head. Good ta know I innit been imagining yer all these years, though truth tell, always figured yer wore a tupee in real life." Wisdom shook his head, while the Professor coughed and demurred politely.

"So wot's the deal with the kids? They innit teachers themselves are they, look pretty wet behind the ears fer that."

"Ahh, no no. Jubilee, Kitty, and Rogue are all Teachers Aides, their all Seniors this year who volunteered to help the faculty with classes, keeping order, and the like. Ahh, Elizabeth, I'm glad to see you could join us. I trust you had time to relax before coming down?"

Wisdom wasn't oblivious to the politeness directed to Betsy compared to him, after his own show of rudeness. However when his blue eyes shifted over to regard Betsy, they narrowed just a little. She'd found the time, apparently, to completely shower, do her hair, and still make it down on time. Not looking the least bit as if she'd been on a jet that day, let alone in a fight for her life some hours back.

A shrug of Pete's shoulders, and he just leered at her a bit. "Lookin nice luv." Without waiting to hear her response, he left her and the Professor, seeking to find Logan or even the cajun to join. Unfortunately, the cajun and Storm seemed to have disappeared as if by magic. Logan was ensconced by a window, drinking his beer and talking to the girl he knew was Rogue. It looked like a private conversation, from the look Logan shot Pete when he took just one step in that direction.

Right then, Logan was out of bounds. Well, there was more beer. Or he could head back to his room, since LeBeau and Munroe had sneaked off, which meant leaving was fair game for him too.

"So like, you're English huh?" There was the younger Asian girl, with her mousy haired book-wormish friend at her side. He'd been too slow.

"Yer think? Wot gave it away? Bet it was me use of the word bloody, wasn't it?" Sarcasm dripped from Pete's words as he gazed at the yellow trenchcoat clat girl. "Been taking fashion advise from LeBeau, have yer? Onea these days he's gonna get himself arrested once and fer all, an it's gonna be fer wot he calls fashion. Specially if he went an baught that, which I bet he did." A nod of his head at her jacket.

Jubilees companion started snickering, and he caught her muttering 'He's got you pegged there, and sounds like he has Gambit's number too Jubes'. But it was never Pete's style to only pick on one of the girls, even if one of them seemed to find him amusing.

"Wot yer giggling about petal, least yer friend 'ere be 'aving the courage to stand out of the crowd. Yer dressed like yer just wanna blend in, or spend the rest of yer week curled up wot with a book away from people." Pete half expected them to turn on each other, it seemed like all of these American kids were kiss asses for a new teacher.

He was therefore, actually surprised when Jubilee started giggling at his take on Kitty, but Kitty turned on him. "Now wait just a minute. How is someone who looks like they've slept in his suit for a week, smells like an ash-tray, and doesn't look like he even knows which end of a razor is sharp, going to go criticizing mine, Jubilees, and Mr LeBeau's fashion sense?" Each word emphasized by her wagging her finger at him.

She didn't, however, expect to be rebuffed by him laughing in her face. "Yer got some spirit petal, but save it fer a fight wot that matters. Now how bout one of yer point me towards the direction where the faculty quarters are, eh?" Steam rolling the girls was easy, although they both looked indignant still, he got his directions out of them and was slipping out of the room as quickly as he could.

Yet before he even made it to the door, a hand fell on his hand, at the same time he heard soft laughter. He didn't need to turn his head to see who it was. He could smell Betsy's perfume, and a quick glance of blue eyes to the side confirmed that it was indeed Elizabeth Braddock, those purple eyes looking curiously back at him.

"All tired out already, Petey? Here I thought you were made of sterner things. Even the youngest children aren't in bed yet, luv." She was teasing him, they both knew it. Especially the way she took a step closer, and batted her lashes at him. To make matters worse, the rest of the people in the room were watching while talking amongst themselves.

"Using me ter make yerself the center of attention, Betsy? An 'ere I figured ya wouldn't need ter use me fer a thing like that." He stared at her, evenly, no chuckles or bids at real humor. He was trying to figure out what her game was.

She was the one who laughed. "Oh, Wisdom. I've been the center of attention since I walked in. I just thought I'd be gracious and share the attention with you, it isn't as if your used to it now is it? But then, you've spent your whole life trying to avoid attention haven't you? Ah yes, what was it you said in the Crown about attention... Oh, that's it. 'If I need attention, I'll pay fer it.' Really Pete, paying for it? Tsk."

One of those finely manicured fingers was being wagged at him, while she smirked. Pete just narrowed his eyes at her. "Ain't ever needed to pay fer _that_ whatever yer think ya over heard, Braddock. Better then Bond, me. You want me ter stay? Fine, I'll stay."

And to the horror of everyone, Peter Wisdom offered the whole room a very bright happy grin. He'd just noticed Logan was smoking a cigar in the room, which was a few seconds later, joined by a cigarette in his own lips. It was a hollow victory though, when after he'd lit his fag that Betsy reached delicate fingers over and asked if he minded, which he told her go ahead.

He hadn't realized it'd been the last cigarette he had on him, and he bloody well wasn't going to ask for it back.

* * *

When the pounding on his door finally quit, he thought it was shortly after he threatened to shoot whoever was doing the knocking, Wisdom finally threw the blanket off his head and fell out of bed. His head was aching, and it took him a minute to find a pack of fags to open up and have one from, while he found a clean suit to pull on.

He recalled last night, in all of it's grim detail. Him and Braddock were going to result in the death of each other, at the rate they were going. It wasn't that they precisely hated each other, so much as they were different creatures. She was a spoiled princess rich girl, had all of the privileges she could ever have, even got a new body when she died and lost the first one. Where as Pete had come from a dirt poor family, and had to work for everything he'd ever had. Even the shitty job in Black Aire, or the cheap cologne he favored.

Not that most people ever realized he wore cologne, it couldn't be smelled over the scent of his cigarettes unless your name was Logan anyway.

Patting down his pants from last night, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes he'd thought was empty, then frowned realizing it was over half full. "Bloody 'ell. Now which one was it.. Xavier or Braddock? Bollocks, I hate telepaths. Knew this was a bleeding 'orrible idea, I did. Still, beats the alternatives.. fer now."

Swishing the last two swallows of the warm bottle of beer still sitting on his dresser from last night, Pete stumbled out into the hall to make his way down to the kitchen, seeing as it was a weekend. When he stumbled in, it was to find LeBeau standing behind the stove making breakfast. Apparently for all of the people in the kitchen, as well as himself, seeing as he was sharing with the kids.

"Lookin bit like a dead man walking, mon ami. Mebbe chocolate chip pancakes cheer you up, take some of dat sour mood away eh? Less ya want some cajun special, but dese kids, dey can't handle de spices."

Pete eyed the cajun warily, eyed the kids sitting around the kitchen who were all staring at him without trying to stare. "Right. Wotever, pancakes, sure."

Remy just shook his head, then laughed. "You gotta lot to learn, ya gonna be a real teacher Wisdom. Petites, dis be Pete Wisdom, he de new.. er. What ya here to teach anyway, Wisdom?"

"Physics an Chemistry, be wot I'm teaching." When, as he expected, a number of people groaned, Wisdom smirked.

"Yea, used to think that way meself, I did. Then when I got in the field, I had ter figure out ways ter survive. Amazin, things ya can do with chemistry an a quick wit, an just how important physics be if yer got energy powers. Knowing how ter bend the rules is important, don't matter if it's the laws of physics, or jay walking."

Pete was giving Remy a bit of a wary look, the cajun had given him that set up, and just grinned. It also left the kids all staring at him, as only a fraction of what he'd said settled in. The one who asked the question was one of the older kids, named Drake he thought from his glance over school profiles.

"Assignments, Mr Wisdom? Were you some kind of military type?"

"Some kind, yer could say that. God, Queen, an Country an all that." Wisdom waved his hand, and then focused on his food as there was chatter slowly rising back in the kitchen. It, of course, faded out when Elizabeth entered.

Not that he could blame everyone. She was wearing a purple robe and matching slippers of some silky fabric, that showed she was wearing a somewhat thin nightgown beneath. She stopped next to Pete at the counter, before slipping into the seat next to him, and leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Morning luv."

While he scowled at her, she stole his plate.

"Wot? Now that innit quite fair, an yer know it Braddock. Then again, LeBeau made 'em fer me, so guessing yer be able to tell me if their safe to eat eh?" He shot a nasty glance at her, then at LeBeau.

Remy, however, just shrugged. "Wasn't anything wrong wit' dem mon ami, but ya lucky I got some chocolate chips left. Make you a couple more. Lookin tres belle, Bets. Even if ya just subjected yaself to a horrible way t'start ya breakfast, kissin Wisdom."

Betsy just smiled beatifically. "Luv, I'll have you know it was the perfect way to start off my morning."

No one in the kitchen believed her, obviously. Not Remy, not Pete, and certainly none of the students who were eying Wisdom with apprehension. He certainly wasn't a looker, like Mr. LeBeau was, and Betsy certainly was a model, so there was somethings not adding up.

With a bright smile for Pete, she explained. "You see, when I woke up this morning, I had the most horrid thought that this was all a dream. Being across the Pond, at a new job you see? If I'd been asleep, Wisdom's sand-paper like stubble would have cut me awake. As it is, I'll have to redo my facial, and wash my mouth out a few times. You even _taste_ like an ash tray, Pete."

Wisdom just shrugged, letting her barbs slide over him, and past him. All of the students seemed to be expecting a retort from him, instead he just lazily ate, blue eyes peering evenly at Braddock. As they ate and the minutes ticked by with nothing being said, he noticed she was starting to fidget just a little bit. Possibly trying to draw his eyes down the front of her nighty, which had slightly come open. Doubtless just to tease him, yet his gaze stayed from his plate to her eyes.

"LeBeau, yer need ter show me the way up town. Need ter lease me a car, get some supplies, an take care of some matters. Yer innit on duty or something like, are ya?" Wisdom's gaze hadn't even moved to LeBeau while talking, and he felt his fists clenching a bit. Betsy was smiling.

"Well Petey, I be happy t'take ya, but Betsy here she already ask me last night. If ya wanna come wit' though..." He sounded as if he knew damn well Pete would rather chew his own arm off, but knew that Wisdom was going to say yes just to annoy her.

"Right, fine with me. More the merrier, right Bets?"

"Oh, of course Pete. You'll even be able to help carry my bags!" She sounded positively delighted, not even deigning to notice the look in his eyes that said any bag she handed him was likely going to end up incinerated in a blast of cosmic energy.

_Oh Pete, do relax. It hardly does for the children to think two of their instructors are going to kill each other, or to always argue in front of them. It wouldn't kill you to be a little polite in front of them to other human beings, now would it?_

Wisdom didn't even bother answering her telepathically, just started counting from one and kept going, as he pulled a fag from his coat, and slipped out of the kitchen.

It was going to be a long day, and he hadn't even met more then two or three of his students.

* * *

The garage seemed like a good place to get away from the others now that it was evening. LeBeau only worked on his bike during the day, and who knew what Logan did. When Wisdom slipped into the garage he'd expected it to be devoid of people, a nice place for him to sit and puff on a fag, surrounded by the scents of grease, motor oil, and paint.

What he hadn't counted on, however, was Scott Summers, dutifully working away on a slick little sports car.

"Trying to escape from everyone, Wisdom? Well, as you can see, this is my escape for the night. Hard to find a place to get away from other people here at the school. All the students have their own little cubbyholes, and us teachers try to give them some privacy. Some, not too much though. Never know what kind of horror they'll get into, if we let them have total free reign. Can you hand me that wrench? Thanks."

"Yea, sure mate. Innit yer gonna harp me bout smoking spite the warning signs? Thought ya were the boyscout type round 'ere?" Wisdom was eying Summers, wondering if he'd been told wrong. Scott just shook his head, then shrugged.

"Few months ago, I would've. Now though, it doesn't really matter does it? A few months ago, I'd have been against someone like you coming to the School, you and Betsy both. You're like Logan, you've both crossed the lines of what's acceptable. You were doing it for the right reasons, at least."

"Reasons innit always wot they're made out to be, Summers. Right or wrong, a dead body, still a dead body, and innit a lot anyone gonna do fer 'em once their dead." Unlike LeBeau, Wisdom didn't go out of his way to blow smoke away from people. If anything, he tended to blow it towards people.

"Maybe so, Wisdom, but you're here for the time being. You going to make the whole time miserable on yourself and everyone around you?"

Pete actually cracked a grin at that. "Bloody right, if'n yer read me bio, yer know that's wot I do best. Done with me fag, I am. Enjoy playing with yer wrench all by yer lonesome, Cap'n." Wisdom flicked a salute, with one finger, to Scott and walked out humming a tune to himself. Scott thought it was 'I fought the Law'.

* * *

"So whatcha t'ink, Stormy?"

"I think the view was better before you put a shirt on." Ororo demurred at him from where she was pulling her shoes on at the corner of the bed, eying Remy where he stood at the window looking out over the mansion grounds.

"Meant bout Wisdom an Bets, 'Ro."

"Well, Elizabeth seems to be a bit wilder then I remember, but otherwise she'll fit right in. I just worry about the male students getting the wrong idea from the way she dresses. Then, you already have given them the wrong ideas about just about everything, so I don't think she could be considered a bad influence compared to you Remy."

"Oh, dat flattering, Stormy. Just remember dat you be de one dat got me t'stick around and be a corrupter of de innocent. What about Petey?"

"He's an odious little man. He hardly acts like he's alive at all, and all he has is nasty words for everyone. I don't believe he knows how to bathe properly either, that or he never washes his clothes." Ororo gave a displeased look, since both cases were horrible.

Remy just shrugged. "Oh, he know how t'do both. It's dat jacket of his dat smell. He had dat jacket for years now, an he don't take care o it de way dat I do mine. But ya right, he's a prick. Why ya t'ink I be so surprised when Charlie show us dat file dat he was coming here? Petey be a spy, not a teacher. He ain' even an X-type, chere. Wisdom.. ya saw what he do to dat Ape guy of Sinisters. Now, dey just clones like alla Sinister's bad guys, but ya saw what Petey did. Melted his face clear off, chere. Ain't de kind of t'ing an X-man does."

"He's not here to join the X-men, Remy. He's willing to offer a hand as a teacher, or to protect the students, but he laughed at the Professor when he suggested he join the team in the first place." Storm looked both pleased and displeased at this.

"Well, least dat leaves someone to stick wit' de Prof when we go on missions, eh? Means Scottie can be active again." Remy couldn't hide his grin. He was getting sick of Scott 'borrowing' some of his booze collection a couple of nights a week. If it didn't stop soon, he was going to have to have words with Scott.

**X-men, to the War Room immediately. We have a situation.** The telepathic sending from Charles was strong and urgent, leaving both Gambit and Storm running for elevator.

* * *

**Author's note**: Been a while since I updated, and this chap was a bit of a lurch, just to let me brush the rust off my pen and re-familiarize myself with the characters and the story. More to come!


	4. The Pilot

The X-men gathered quickly to the war room, well, the Senior X-men did anyway, apparently Charles had only called them and none of the Junior X-men. In addition, Pete Wisdom was sitting in a chair staring forlornly at his unlit cigarette, occasionally tossing nasty looks at Betsy. Who, everyone realized, actually intended what they all thought was a bathing suit to be her costume. IT seemed all of the men except Remy, Charles, and Pete were having a hard time keeping their attention on the briefing.

Not that Remy wasn't looking occasionally, he wasn't blind after all. Pete certainly offered Betsy some attention, but it wasn't to oogle her. It was to snipe at her, or think nasty thoughts nice and loud at her. Once or twice, Charles shot them both a frown during the briefing, at picking up some of the insults being traded between the two.

"Now, the Situation is troubling. Cerebro and I have detected a powerful mutant presence in Ohio. There have also been traces of two of the Marauders chasing this mutant. Sabertooth and Scalphunter. So far, the mutant has managed to stay a few steps ahead of them but we can't count on that keeping up. Go, I will provide you with location updates telepathically. Wisdom will be staying here with me, to guard the Institute. Scott, you're in charge."

There was a temporary silence when Charles said who'd be leading. Scott had looked like he'd been about ready to console himself to another night spent watching children with Charles, and the words seemed to hit him with as much a surprise as everyone else. There was only a moments hesitation.

"Alright everyone, you heard the Professor! Let's go, there's a mutant in need of back up!" The almost now unfamiliar commanding bark in Scott Summers voice was back, just like that. Someone needed him.

After they'd filed out, and Wisdom and Xavier were left looking at eachother, Pete just arched a brow. "Y'sure that was a good idea there, Charlie? That wanker in charge in the field again?"

Charles just offered a lazy confident smile. "I have every confidence in Scott, Peter. Now you'd better go take care of the students, there's a food fight about to erupt in the Cafeteria."

Wisdom could be heard muttering something about 'lousy ankle biting toe rags, hit me with food an I'll hotknife their arses.'

* * *

The flight of the Blackbird had been in relative silence, once they took off. Only occasionally did Elizabeth speak, giving updates from the Professor for Scott to follow. The Blackbird could break Mach four when the X-men needed to, and Scott had opened the engines as far as they'd go, while Storm modified the weather to give them optimal conditions.

"We've got the last coordinantes. Elizabeth, can you contact our friend and let them know we're here to help, and get us a location? Wolverine, Gambit, Storm, the three of you are on Marauder hunting detail. Find Creed and Scalphunter, and take them down."

The self doubt, moaning despair was gone from Scott Summers voice. Each of his teammates knew it'd probably return when they got to the mansion, but for now Cyclops was his old self, and lost in the situation and tactics.

"Come on Psylocke." Scott barked, slipping from the controls and heading down the ramp, the psi scurrying to catch up.

"I've got a lock, Cyke. She's two blocks over, minor injuries. One of the other Marauders, I couldn't tell which, is close. Couldn't get more then marginal contact with her, with Gambit's powers, the Marauders dampeners, and her own fear." She wasn't surprised that she'd had to finish her sentence while trotting behind Scott in the direction she'd indicated. What did surprise her was she actually had to stretch her legs to keep up, she'd been sure he'd fallen out of shape or practice in his mourning period, but if he had.. it wasn't showing.

Nor did it, two blocks later, when sweeping around a corner his visor flared to life. Pulsating ruby red energy lighting the night, blast taking Arclight – or a clone of her – straight in the chest. She was about to ask how he'd even done that, then laughed. Of course, the way he flew the plane, or how easily he controlled the danger room, or always knew his surroundings. It'd never occurred to her that his visors weren't just controls enablers, but very likely fully cybernetic loaded, with targeting packages and who knew what kind of sensors.

Of course, blasting a super-durable super-strengther tended to not work out, in the long run, but Scott was already running past her towards the other mutant. Something seemed to have caught his eye, which gave Betsy time to form her psi-knife, and play with Arclight.

"What's that old saying again? Oh, yes. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, isn't that it luv?" Saddly, Arclight never got past the point of recovering from Scott's blast, before the psychic blade stabbed through her skull, firing her synapses off randomly, and K.O.ing her almost instantly.

"Hardly a glorious victory, hitting injured birds. This must be how Wisdom feels after most of his fights, I suppose. I'll have to ask him how he ever copes with it." Clapping her hands, Betsy set off after Scott.

* * *

"Jean? Is that you?" Scott knew what he saw. Through thermals, it looked just like Jean. Through nightvision, it looked just like Jean. Now that those were switched off, the woman ahead of him nursing her left leg looked just like Jean. Even tinted by his glasses, her hair was even just the right shade of red.

"Uhm. Who's Jean? I'm Madelyne... Nice shades." She was watching him warily, distrustfully. Not the kind of look Jean Grey would have given him. Then again, now that he saw her fully, she wasn't exactly like Jean. Close, so close, but not exactly.

A bit of a cough on Scott's part. "Sorry, you remind me of someone. I'm Cyclops, we're here to safety, and away from the Marauders. Do you need help walking?" A gesture at her leg.

"Well, you aren't trying to kill me like those other guys, so.. Alright. Try any funny movies, and I'll give you what for, just like I did that big guy alright?" As she waved her hand, it was the first time Scott realized she had a half foot or so piece of metal tube. If she'd picked that up and used it on Sabertooth at some point tonight, she had guts.

"Well, come on Madelyne. We've got a jet waiting, and we'll get that leg looked at." Slipping her arm over his shoulder, he easily took the bulk of her weight so she could hop along with him. While he could have easily carried her, something told him he didn't want to be so forward. Just because she looked like Jean..? Even as he told himself that, she almost slipped. "It'll be easier if I just carry you, okay?"

"Sure.. My legs pretty messed up.. Didn't realize." She sounded in pain, but she offered a little grin, even though her lips were twinging in pain, as he picked her up and started to carry her back towards the Black Bird. Not even twenty yards from where they started, Betsy fell in next to him, all the world as if him carrying a redhead back to the jet was just how it should be.

"Lovely night, isn't it Cyke? Arclights down for the count, scrambled her better then the cajun scrambles margaritas. The other three are on their way back, Storm says Scalphunter escaped, and Creed managed to get away in the diversion Scalphunter created. They've got a few minor wounds, mostly Logan." Betsy didn't sound surprised, and Scott had to admit he wasn't exactly surprised himself. Logan always got injured, but that went with the healing factor he guessed.

"Alright, The Black Bird is doing auto-prep now. When Storm gets here, it'll be ready. Have her take pilots seat, I'll prep our guest here in the back for medical when we get back to the mansion. Unless any besides me became paramedic qualified since I last checked?" Scott asked it even as the other three came into view of the Bird, as he climbed. No one answered though, so it appeared not. Nor did they appear to catch a glimpse of the woman in his arms before he'd climbed the Blackbird, because no one stopped him or tried to slip into the back while he took care of Madelyne .

Of course, he didn't know Betsy was standing on the other side, keeping Logan and Gambit out.

In the light of the Black Birds limited medical facilities, he could get a good glimpse at Maddie. Her hair was longer then Jean had ever kept hers, and the way she grinned, he had to bet her grin tended to be a bit crooked with mischief. He also saw that her leg was hurt worse then he'd initially thought.

"Ouch, that can't be good. Well, I can't give you anything to kill the pain. The Professor will do that when we're back at the Mansion, but a bit of washing with aniseptic is going to hurt, but this is the kind Doctor Grey always insisted we use, which contains small traces of local anesthetic, or as she called 'soothant', since we didn't complain as much when it didn't hurt as much." Scott offered her a grin, then offered her his other hand.

"Doctor Grey sounds like a smart Doctor. And what are you, Cyclops? A Paramedic? Or a Pilot?"

"If you want to squeeze this while I spray your leg? This is going to hurt, it looks like Creed got you pretty good... Me? I'm a few things. Mostly a Teacher, but I've been flying since I got my license at 19. My dad was a test pilot in the Air Force, so I always thought I should know how to fly. What about you?"

Most people would be amazed Scott had mentioned his father, it wasn't something he often did, but the way Maddie grabbed his hand and squeezed, and was watching him, well. He felt his guard down. He knew it wasn't Jean, but.. for the first time since Jean died at Alkali lake, he didn't feel empty or incomplete.

"Ohsonofabitch! That hurts!" Scott couldn't conceal a wince as the antiseptic bubbled over her wounded leg, a sign that she very likely might have infection problems if they didn't manage to thoroughly clean her wounds. Not to mention, it had to be painful. "Ahh. Crap. Can we wait to finish after we're somewhere I get pain killers? That hurts a lot.."

Scott nodded, and applied some pure water to wash the remainders of the antiseptic away. They'd finish at the medbay at School.

"I'm a Pilot. I do charter flights between Anchorage and Northern Alaska. Or, well, I used to. Before the company I worked for decided profits were getting thin, and they axed me. I've been in Ohio for a few weeks, trying to get a job there. I figured Cleveland always looked like a good place to live on the Drew Carry Show, so.." A slightly ashamed shrug of her shoulders. No adult liked admitting they were between jobs at any time, and Scott rather figured Maddie had a pretty strong independent streak.

"Drew Carry show, huh? It was one of my favorites too, but I couldn't stand Who's Line.." Scott shook his head, and was amazed to see her nodding in agreement, also coupled with the realization they were slowing down, as Storm's voice warned over the intercom.

"We're coming in for a landing in about thirty seconds, Scott. Hope you have our passenger buckled in."

* * *

Scott was expecting there to be some issues when he moved Maddie to the medical bay. He wasn't disappointed with the reaction when he stepped past the door carrying Maddie, and heard everyone but Betsy gasp.

Logan's reaction was the most interesting, Scott found. He seemed to be ready to jump forward, to do what he wasn't sure, until Scott saw Logan's nose twitch.

"Different scent. Not her." He said it quietly, yet loudly enough for them all to hear though. Well, if Logan said it wasn't Jean, Scott was going to accept that. Best of all, was the fact Logan seemed uninterested in her as soon as he realized it wasn't Jean. Why that should make Scott happy, well, he didn't know, but it did. Then it was just a matter of carrying her past everyone, and down to the medbay to be seen by the Professor.

Somewhere along the way, he realized Maddie had fallen asleep in his arms, when he got to the medbay however, Charles was waiting with a half smile on his lips. "I thought it best our patient would sleep through this. Her wounds need cleaning, and anisthetic would take time to kick in."

Scott just nodded, as if he should have expected her falling asleep had been Charles's work, and set in to help Charles care for the young redhead.

* * *

The X-men were expecting chaos when they walked into the Cafeteria. They'd taken off in the jet, after all, and left an untested new member of the faculty in charge of the students. Doubtlessly, Charles had left Pete Wisdom on his own, to sink or swim.

Therefore, when they strolled into the cafeteria to get something to eat, they were in for a surprise.

All of the students were seated like they normally were, but it was much quiter then normal. The students, rather then shouting, yelling, and generally clamoring, were whispering and talking in quiet voices only at their own table. If they needed to talk to someone at another table, they got up and moved quietly to another table to whisper for a few moments, before going back to their original table.

In short, it was the strangest sight Storm, Gambit, or Logan had ever seen at the mansion. The cause for the goings on was readily apparent though, once they looked around the room.

Peter Wisdom was sitting at the faculty table alone, rolling an unlit cigarette longingly between his fingertips, staring at it in a way they all accused Storm of fawning after Gambit. There was, also, they had to note, a massive charred hole through the end faculty table, and ashes and burn marks on the tiles underneath that table and the hole.

Wisdom saw them looking at him, offered them that grin that made the students go deathly quiet, and all of their own spines shiver, before he stood up and stalked out of the room, his cigarette lit even as he hit the hall, clearly heading for a smoking environment.

"Well I'll be damned." Logan grunted.

"Ain' never gonna hear de end of dis, ya realize? We can't let him realize dat dey don't behave dis well for us, or he gonna give us all hell."

Betsy, however, just looked at them all and laughed. "Oh, please. They can't usually be that bad, besides, it's clear Wisdom threatened them with bodily harm. That's hardly anything to envy, _boys_." With a sniff at Logan and Remy, Betsy turned and departed.

Already, the students voices were rising, and disorder was starting to spread.

"Well, since we're never going to hear the end of it, let's claim those two last cheesecakes before we have to start assigning detention?"

"I'll get the beer, 'Ro. Cajun, you get the ice cream. We should probably send a piece down to Kurt in the infirmary, but..." Logan wasn't the only one who laughed. There were, after all, only two cheesecakes left.

"Snooze ya looze, be what I always say homme."

* * *

Wisdom it appeared, indeed did head straight for an air where he could smoke. Which was rather what she expected, as Betsy followed after him a minute or two later. Tracking Pete Wisdom through the school could be done one of two ways. Usually by the thoughts of the students, or just letting your 'mental gaze' sprawl across an area, unfocus, and after a minute or two you'd start to feel the despair that wafted off the man and be able to zone in on him that way.

Not that he exuded such a feeling when you were paying attention to him. He kept himself to tightly bound for people to get a sense of it, especially the feelings he didn't want others to know about. Yet, it wasn't like the man had true mental shields, he wasn't a psionic after all. His anti-psychic measures were all routine, exercises and thought-tricks he'd learned to keep a psi out of his head. Betsy had to admit, he'd done a remarkable job learning them. There were few men she'd met who had as strong defenses as he did, and who weren't in some way psionically empowered themselves.

True to form, Pete was just out the back exit of the mansion, sucking on one of his Silk Cuts as if the fate of the universe depended on him getting as much nicotine into his bloodstream as possible, in the shortest amount of time.

"Impressive, Peter. You had to have almost run down here to already have that one down to the butt already. There all up there marveling over your handy work in quieting the children, you know, desperately trying to figure out how you managed it."

Wisdom smirked his little self-satisfied smirk, before his powers flared incinerating his first cigarette butt, and lighting his next fag for him.

"Oh, I pointed out the collateral damage, and pointed out it was obvious you threatened them with grievous bodily harm. They believed me, of course. How'd you really do it, Pete?"

Annoyingly, he didn't seem surprised that Betsy had figured it out, seemingly. He just nodded his head, and gave her a bit of an appraising glance.

"Well petal, kids be the easiest people ter deal with if yer know wot yer doing. Lay out a little bitta yarn bout me time wot with MI-6 an all, a few tales of death defyin heroism, an a demonstration of me powers on the table got quite a few of em in the palm of me hands. The reste, shite, I just bribed with the offer of pizza next time yer all gone, when yer all landed."

Wisdom looked unapologetic at bribing students, or at the fact he'd been misleading them. In fact, Betsy had to admit she had to admire the style he used. When she'd first met him, like the others, she'd have readily believed he'd just threatened the kids with violence. She had to admit, Pete Wisdom was intriguing in his own entirely unpleasant way, and that the heavy undertone of despair around him made her somewhat curious.

Of course, he had to ruin moments like this by leering at her, and not just a little. He even blew her a kiss. "Wot, yer gonna show it off luv, I'mma look."

He said to her departing back. Half way back to her room, she began to realize.. every time she started to think Pete Wisdom might not be a completely terrible person, he did something like that to change her mind.

_But how would he know that I was... of course. Facial expressions, body posture. He's reading people's emotions that way. That's why him and Logan can talk, they both express clear dislike for each other when they talk, even if it's that weird male bonding.._

Pete Wisdom was becoming more and more a man she wanted to know about. However, she wanted a shower, maybe a bubble bath, more then she wanted to know about anything right now.

* * *

He wasn't surprised, when sometime later the cajun dropped down from the roof onto the back balcony.

"Ya know, it somehow don't surprise me dat ya still awake. Most of de rest of de house asleep. Cept ya ain't still awake, are ya? Wake up and come down for a smoke?"

Wisdom shrugged. "Wanted a fag, an needed ter see the way this place looks in the dark hours. More important than in the daylight, an all. Wot gave away that I innit been down 'ere the whole time, fact I'm not wearing a shirt?" Sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Remy just laughed, as if he'd made a joke. "Well, dat was kinda one of de giveaways. Whatcha think of de place so far, mon ami?"

Wisdom gave him a considering look, watching those burning devils eyes that glowed in the dark. "Eh. Innit quite wot I was expecting. Was figuring yer place 'ere be a bit more like Hogwarts, less like one of them bleeding gossip-drama-soap-opera shite they show fer teenagers."

The cajun seemed to find that especially funny. "Just wait till ya catch dem on de first day after a break. De ones dat go home, dey come back havin figured out a new trick with the powers, and they all wanna show dem off to everyone. An course, ones dat stayed here, they learned new tricks too... Days like dat, it feel like Hogwarts."

"Yeah, if ya say so LeBeau. Still, kinda surprised by the kids a bit."

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Well fer one thing, LeBeau, they innit as big of idiots as I figured they'd be, being yanks and all. Their only half of 'em idiots. But I expect with them having you fer a teacher this year, you'll have it reduced to just a quarter of em with any brains left. They'll all be talking bout 'dis and dat' and drinking moonshine straight from the still."

Pete emphasized this by pulling his flask from his pocket, and downing a hearty swallow.

"Think ya confusing me with de bunch from Kentucky, mon ami, but I forgive ya. You Brits ain't learned all de regional American stereo types yet, just de broad generalities. Few months, I call ya to task for a mistake like dat though."

Wisdom's look said if he was still here in a few months, he'd shoot himself. At least, that's what Pete thought his look said. Remy let the subject drop.

"So what up wit' you an Betsy, mon ami? She was throwin off some bad vibes after ya lil discussion earlier."

"Wot's there to say, mate? Daft bint keeps trying ter talk to me like I'm going to be her sodding friend or something like. Innit going to happen, as if I'm going ter trust her wot with her being a telepath an all that shite." Wisdom made a gesture with his cigarette, but even he wasn't sure what the gesture was meant to be, besides rude.

"Well Pete, ya know ya don't have dese issues wit' Xavier, an he a telepath."

"He ain't part of the Nobility either, mate. Yer got yer dislikes, I got mine. Leave it at that, will ya?"

Gambit eyed him as if considering saying more, but just shrugged and started climbing the wall again. No doubt back to whatever window he'd crawled out of to begin with.

"Ya a weird guy, Pete. Most guys, they give quite a bit t'be friends wit' Betsy, an you're playing games with her."

"Shit LeBeau, what part of 'Don't wanna talk about it' dont yer bleeding get? Sod off." This time, not giving LeBeau time to get more words in, Pete was the one to walk inside. He wasn't the only one who had a hard time sleeping that night.

If they'd known elsewhere, Sinister was laughing, none of them would have been sleeping...

* * *

**Author's Note:** I expect no one was expecting Madelyne Pryor to show up. As far what I intend to do with her, well you'll just have to wait and see. I will however admit that she's the closest thing to Jean you'll see in this fic, outside of Flashbacks. 


End file.
